


Back and Forth

by NoblePureUsurper



Category: Storm and Silence Series - Robert Thier
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Business Rivals, F/M, Go reread the series or some other fanfiction for the same setting and feeling as the original, It's the Great Depression. Did you really think this wouldn't have angst?, Of course characters may feel OOC- it's an AU with different circumstances
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 17:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16123145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoblePureUsurper/pseuds/NoblePureUsurper
Summary: Stability is an idyllic, fleeting illusion only experienced by a select lucky few.Lilly Linton knows this fact just as well as anyone else enduring the plaguing course of the Great Depression. Along with her five other sisters, she spends her days clinging on to the precious memories contained within her late parents' country estate.Until one day, reality comes knocking at the front door- taking the form of a cold, ruthless financier intent on destroying any remaining semblance of peace. With all that she holds dear at stake, Lilly is cornered with limited options.Submit...or fight back.Infrequent updates. Story is also posted on Wattpad and FanFiction.





	Back and Forth

Life had not been easy for Lilly after growing up with five other siblings, let alone all sisters.

Sure, in her opinion, she had considerably quite more to be grateful for than others. But by no means would she have compared her life to a stroll in the park.

The year was 1932 and the Great Slump plundered England for its little remaining worth, originating from the United States a few years back and rippling outward devastatingly, tearing apart people’s lives and society on a global scale. Prior to the Slump, England was rather worse for wear— the Great War had ravaged the country and its citizens, and recovery was hindered through the raise of the exchange rate from the gold standard. Unemployment was at an all-time high, with several million people jobless and even more barely managing to make ends meet with the increase in both taxes and pay cuts.

Lilly had experienced these effects firsthand from the start of her life. Her father had been conscripted into the Great War when she was merely two years old, leaving behind five daughters and a heavily pregnant wife by joining the dreaded frontlines. News of his death reached them six months before the war ended and six months later, her mother had passed away. Tuberculosis had been the doctor’s diagnosis, but Lilly suspected it was ultimately heartbreak— losing the will to move on from a love proved by the very existence of her and her siblings. The Great War might have ended the same day her mother died, but upon looking back, Lilly felt that she had been plunged into another.

For a while, times were relatively stable considering the possible alternatives. Her grandmother, Frederica Linton— one of the most stubborn, spirited ladies Lilly felt honoured to know— had been compassionate enough to take care of them and run the country house that her son had left to her six orphaned granddaughters in his will.

But then her grandmother had also passed away a decade later and this time around, Lilly had been old enough to fully comprehend the feeling of being an orphan. Her eldest sister, Gertrude, had taken on the arduous task of running the household and its inhabitants, a task that had only increased in difficulty as time passed.

From what little Lilly could remember, the country house had once been extravagantly resplendent, considered the pride and joy for all of her sisters. The expansive estate had been immensely revered and envied for its power and plethora of luxuries— glazed Venetian windows and a rusticated exterior enclosed the numerous rooms ornamented with priceless artworks and embellished furniture, kept in pristine condition by the approximately hundred members comprising the family’s staff.

When Lilly’s grandmother had taken over, expenses were dramatically cut down, with many of the staff dismissed and numerous possessions auctioned. “Drastic times call for drastic measures.” She explained, her tone brooking no room for argument in response to the protests from Lilly’s older twin sisters, Anne and Maria.

Once Lilly’s grandmother was gone, even more substantial measures had to be taken to keep the estate. Much to the grievance of Anne and Maria, all staff were gradually let go and anything that could be sold for sustenance was kept aside to be pawned away— including the gold-plated doorknobs from every single door. Survival became the priority during a time where maintaining appearances was outweighed by its sheer price. The only nourishment compliments provided was for the ego, an abstract concept that vaporised and left behind residues of resentment when Lilly and her sisters were left on their own for the second time.

Yes, the country house no longer retained its former glory. Paint was peeling, dust was collecting and other forces were slowly attempting to stake claim to the property— overgrown weeds on the outside and termites allied with mildew on the inside. It was a sad state for the house and for her sisters.

But not for Lilly.

Despite her sister’s sentiments— with Anne and Maria frequently vocalising their own, she was still content. The house may have been decrepit but she could still say she had something she cherished.

And she truly did. It was a stronghold for her both physically and emotionally. It had protected her and her family during the worst of war-ridden times and continued to do so, with destitution as the depressing backdrop in the 20th century. The manor was all she had left to commemorate the memory of her grandmother and her parents.

A reminder of what she had once.

What she had lost.

* * *

It had been a dull, gloomy day in November when Lilly was curled up in the family library. She had been perusing through the collection of books or rather, what was left of it after most of them been sold.

Lilly shivered as air swept throughout the draughty room and she drew her moth-eaten shawl around her. Sighing, she looked up from her father’s atlas and out the window, scanning the dead grass surrounding the estate and glowering at the dreary landscape.

She paused when she caught sight of something unusual. Setting down the atlas, she pulled out the small pair of field glasses she kept on her person at all times from her pocket. She held them to her eyes and looking through them, saw something that made her eyes widen.

Racing out of the library and cutting through the saloon, she entered the family wing on the southwest side of the house. She burst through her room and dug through the back of her wardrobe, throwing clothes in a fit of frantic energy as she muttered curses under her breath.

“Lill?” The door adjoining her room and her younger sister, Ella’s, opened and the young lady herself appeared.

“Lilly, what are you doing? Why are you destroying your wardrobe?”

The woman in question ignored her, too focused on her own search, the curses rapidly shooting out of her mouth as if her life depended on them.

“Lill? Answer me! What’s going on?”

“There!” Triumphantly stepping back from the wardrobe, she turned to Ella with a loaded revolver in hand. Ella screeched as she shrank back, blue eyes bulging out in horror.

“Isn’t that Father’s? Why do you have that? I thought we pawned all his weapons!”

“Not _all_ of them.” Lilly said, eyes flashing with grim determination. “After all, how do you expect us to defend ourselves with no one else left?”

“But why do we need to defend ourselves? Wh-what’s happening?” Ella began to panic.

“I saw two figures in the distance approaching the house from the library windows. I didn’t recognise them and I don’t know what they want with us, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” The revolver glinted as she tucked it deeply within her dress pocket.

The doorbell chimed loudly, startling them both and making Ella jump. Lilly took off towards the front of the manor, sprinting at top speed as it rang again, the mysterious caller impatient.

As she neared the large, opulent hall— the most preserved part of the house save for the collecting dust— connecting to the front entrance, she saw Gertrude approaching it as well from the direction of the dining room, brows furrowed in confusion. It had been a long while since the manor had any visitors.

Lilly caught up to her. “Let me handle this.” She panted, wiping sweat from her face with her sleeve. Gertrude opened her mouth, about to speak, but Lilly was faster on the uptake.

“I saw them. Two people. From the library. I will take care of this.” She wheezed out, hand pulling out the revolver so Gertrude could see it before she put it away again. “Warn the others and be prepared.”

 _In case something bad happens_. The unspoken words hung heavily in the air.

Without waiting for a reply, she strode down the polished alabaster stairs and the doorbell rang for the third time.

“Coming!” She called, bracing herself. Reaching the last stair, she crossed the final steps to the front door. Exhaling, she opened it and frowned, not expecting what she saw.

Standing— no, _towering_ in front of her was a dark-skinned giant of a man, his face mostly covered by a massive black beard save for a crooked nose, beetle eyes and mouth seemingly etched permanently into a scowl. Lilly presumed that he was of South Asian descent when she spotted the turban on his head.

Resisting the urge to run away, Lilly gulped. “Hello, who are you?” She enquired, neck craning to look him in the bearded face.

“You there, servant!” He all but barked at her. “Go get your master. My _Sahib_ wishes to speak with him.”

Servant? Lilly’s eyes sparked with fury. Sure, her faded dress was a few years old and with loose threads hanging from the seams but that was no reason for her to be demeaned in such a way. She would not stand for it!

She glared at him. “ _I_ am the ‘master’ of this house, so as you put it.” _Or rather, one of them_ , she silently corrected in her head. “State your business _clearly_ or leave the premise immediately.”

He growled, uttering in a low curse in what sounded like Punjabi to Lilly, about to threaten retribution from her order. Her hand automatically twitched in response, ready to reach into her pocket and pull out the gun—

“Karim, step aside.” A new voice cut through the air, like sharpened steel.

It was a cold, curt voice and instantly, Lilly felt dread creep up her spine in warning.

“But _Sahib_ , are you sure?” The Indian man protested. “She is just one annoying female that can easily be dealt with.”

“I said, step aside.” The voice commanded with finality.

The man named Karim complied and the person whom he addressed as ‘ _Sahib_ ’ came into view.

Involuntarily, Lilly inhaled sharply as another man stepped forward, approaching her.

Despite towering over her also, he was decently shorter than his accompanying associate and much leaner as well, the latter fact emphasised by a simple, well-preserved black suit. His bow-tie and silk top hat were also black, matching his short, cropped hair. It provided stark contrast to his pale complexion, with angular facial features. His eyes seemed to stand out the most however, being best described as sea-coloured and falling in between a shade of blue, green and grey.

Without a doubt, he was the most attractive man she had ever seen— despite his somewhat outdated attire.

She hated him at first sight.

“I am here to buy this place.”

Lilly blinked. Surely she had misheard his words and he had said something about trying a vase?

“ _What_?”

Arctic eyes bored into hers. “I do not like to repeat myself. I am here to buy this place. How much does it cost?”

Lilly could not believe what she was hearing. She was debating on giving him directions to the nearest madhouse.

“This place is not for sale, Mr…” She trailed off.

“Rikkard Ambrose. Displeasure to make your acquaintance.” His tone sounded as if he were forced to interact with a monkey that had bananas for brains.

“Well, Mr Ambrose, this place is not for sale and never will be!” She spat out.

“Wrong.”

“Did you just tell me that I’m _wrong_?”

 _What was with this man_? She fumed. She itched to slap that stone-hard cheek of his but got the feeling that only her hand would be in pain if she did so.

“Indeed.” He confirmed. “This place is falling apart and judging by your attire, I would say that you are not well-off despite the size of the estate. Only a fool would turn down my offer. You look like you are badly in need of money. Money I am _actually_ willing to exchange for this place, Miss…”

“Linton. Lilly Linton.”

“Ah, yes. Miss Linton.”

“Well, Mr Ambrose, I do not like to repeat myself either. This place is _not_ for sale and _never_ will be.” She declared, venom lacing her voice and fire filling her eyes.

He stared. And stared at her some more.

Then still continued to stare.

His eyes narrowed.

“I see. There is no other way to convince you to part with this estate?”

“No, never. Even if you offered me all the luxuries and riches in the world, I would still decline.” She sneered at him, internally suppressing the urge to shiver.

Anger swirled in his dark, deadly eyes and Lilly’s heart hammered in her chest as she glared back at him. She felt as if she was trapped in a maelstrom, one with the sole intention of drowning her existence entirely. He stepped even closer, their faces nearly touching as he glared down at her.

Lilly’s breath hitched in her throat. His cool breath gently fanned her face when he spoke again in a low tone.

“Very well. I see that you have made your choice. If persuading you will not work, then I shall have to resort to other measures. Say your farewells to this estate, Miss Linton.”

He whirled around, turning on his heels, then marched away— away from the country house, with his companion in tow who threw her a baleful look in parting.

Lilly scoffed, haughty triumph in her tone as she called out after them.

“Good day, _Mister_ Ambrose.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the second fanfiction story I am writing for the _Storm and Silence_ series. This one has an older rating for possible violent action fight scenes in later chapters. Those chapters will be indicated as such and have a warning at the beginning. Rating is subject to change later on to mature if said scenes are more graphic than expected. This story takes place during the 1930's, which was known to be one of the most recalled periods in history in a rather notorious manner.
> 
> This story is dedicated to [ntlpurpolia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ntlpurpolia), from here on AO3, who inspired me to write this chapter on my Tumblr fanblog and subsequently, this story after suggesting a prompt on her fanblog where Lambrose are business rivals. This story also takes some inspiration from _Up and Down_ , written by the author of the series himself for a movie promotion.
> 
> Warning: updates on this story will probably be irregular and infrequent, but I will do my best to keep them monthly.


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